Badass Profile Tweaks
Top 25 Users
Top 25 MSGs
So far I've submitted
away messages, and they've been used a total of
times. Here are my messages...
Today we salute you, Mr. C Store Retailer of the Year Guy.
Some guys make their fortune in gold,
Others in real estate,
You..you make yours in nachos.
(oh so cheesy)
You sell 4 million cups of coffee a day,
30 million gallons of soft drinks a year,
& more Bud and Bud Light than anyone in the world.
You won't let anyone use your restroom.
(I really gotta go now)
Thanks to you,
24 hours a day it’s easy to get gas,
& I don’t mean just for your car.
With your go-go taquitos,
Your hot dogs,
Your microwave burritos.
(gassin’ up now)
And those magazines you keep behind the counter,
I only have one thing to say about that:
Oh thank heaven.
Thank heaven indeed.
(I like the articles)
So crack open an ice cold Bud Light, oh Sultan of the Slurpee.
Because without you,
Where would we turn for beef jerky at 3AM?
Today we salute you, Mr. Chinese Food Delivery Guy.
We'd be forced to do the unthinkable when we wanted Chinese:
Drive to a restaurant.
(moo shoo gai pan)
But you, sir,
Bring it to us in under twenty.
(ride like the wind)
Armed with your rickety bike,
You battle traffic,
And the occasional busted elevator.
And why do you do it?
Because somewhere some guy is waiting for his Kung Pow Crab Puffs,
And he's got a dollar fifty seven with your name on it.
(that's ten percent)
So crack open an ice cold Bud Light, oh Mercenary of the Mandarin Chicken,
And know that when America is looking for a man to get the job done,
You do deliver.
Today we salute you, Mr. Ceremonial First Pitch Thrower Outer.
Dressed in slacks, button-down shirt, and ball cap,
You take to the mound announcing to everyone in attendance,
“I am fully prepared to make a complete fool of myself.”
(you’re on tv)
Over the backstop.
Halfway to the plate.
Into the back of the umpire’s head.
Who knows where your throw will land?
(it hit me in the grroooiin)
Your fastball was clocked at a breath-taking 8 ˝ miles per hour.
(that’s almost ten)
So crack open an ice cold Bud Light, Oh Fryer of the Fireball.
Will always be our favorite pastime.
Today we salute you Mr. Department Store Mannequin Dresser Upper
You live the ultimate fantasy,
Spending your days surrounded by naked women who never speak
(Living the dream)
You’ve handled more fake female parts than a Beverly Hills plastic surgeon
(They sure feel real).
Your hours are flexible,
So are the women you are undressing
So crack open an ice cold Bud Light, O’ Mac Daddy of the mannequins,
When it comes to undressing fake women,
You’re the real man.
Today we salute you Mr. Driving Range Ball Picker Upper.
For our pure enjoyment,
You bravely throw yourself directly in the path of adversity,
And you do it on a tractor.
Oh, the rules call for friendly fire,
But you know we're all gunning for you.
(gunning for you)
"Let her rip," you say,
Because someone's gonna hit a little dribbler,
And they're gonna try and chase it down.
(run run run run)
And when they do, you'll be there.
(you'll be there)
So crack open an ice cold Bud Light, Range Guy,
Because in this world of mamby pambys,
You're the one with all the balls.
Mean Away Messages
We Salute You
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